


don't be so pathetic, just open up and sing

by Latia



Series: I, Egbot [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, Gen, John is a robot, Rose is somewhere between patient and not patient at all, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 06:58:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Latia/pseuds/Latia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Automatons aren't mean to go against their design, but when has a thing like that ever stopped Rose Lalonde?</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't be so pathetic, just open up and sing

“…John?” Rose waves her free hand in front of him. “Are you on standby? Do you need me to shake your mouse?”

The robot breaks out of his sudden silence with what must be the mechanical equivalent of a scoff. _“Wow Rose, racist."_

“Robots aren’t a race, numbnuts.”

A pause, gears turning in the brief quiet. “ _Computerist_.”

“While the dynamics between automatons at your level of self-awareness and humans is a topic worth discussion, there are matters to attend to. Namely…” She gestures with her head downwards, to where John’s bulky, jointed hand sits open and palm up on the desk. In it rests Rose’s own hand, dwarfed, almost vulnerable looking.

John makes a sound like a gear coming unstuck. _“I, I know that. I was just…preparing. Myself.”_

  
Rose smiles faux-sweet. “I’d ask if you’d like me to hold you hand for this, but…”

 _“Just give me a second!!”_ His shoulders spike up, down. _“Tasks involving fine motor skills are more…difficult than just fighting off intruders and…you know. Other things. Things involving hitting and blowing stuff up.”_

“All the more reason to learn how to do this. Now, go on.”

He looks at her.

He looks at her hand.

He looks at her.

And…

_“…There. See? I told you I could.”_

She raises a brow. “You said you could hold my hand, not gently caress the air around my hand.”

_“Well excuse me for not wanting to turn your fingers into ground beef!! I thought people generally *liked* having limbs that aren’t mutilated.”_

“I appreciate the concern, but contrary to popular belief, I am not made of glass. You’re allowed to use a little more force.”

 _“…”_ His grip tightens an infinitesimal amount.

“Oh no, I think I just heard arthritis kick in! Come on, John, tighter.”

 _“I’m tRYing!”_ There’s a weird crackle to his voice, as if his speaker is damaged. _“I tOLD you, tasks inVOLving…”_ Another pause, a few whirs. _“…tasks involving fine motor skills are not easy for models built for combat and defense. I mean, fuck, models like me aren’t even supposed to be able to interact with people like this! You have no idea how easily I could permanently damage your hand, or just tear your arm off!!’_

Something about that makes Rose frown. “Call me biased, but I think you’re vastly overestimating your ability to be a catastrophe.”

That makes him quiet a moment. “ _…thanks, but you haven’t seen me actually do my job before.”_

“And I’m sure you’re completely terrifying.” She pats his shoulder. “But as you said, you weren’t originally designed for tasks not involving blowing heads off, so you need to learn how to work around that.”

She brings her free hand around his fingers, gently squeezing his joints. “Do you remember back when we first met, when you restrained me?”

_“When you said I was cutting off circulation to your arms?”_

“But I asked you to loosen your grip, and that was fine. The force you held my shoulders at was about the amount you need to comfortably hold someone’s hand.”

“Now. Focus.”

 

 

 

“…and there! That’s perfect.” His joints are poking her, but he doesn’t need to know that. Rose smiles up at him. “See? It isn’t that hard, it’s mainly about knowing the limits of…” She trails off. “What is that thing in your eye?”

 _“What?”_ One of the familiar lights has gone red, with what looks like a black exclamation mark in the center. _“Oh, sorry.”_ With a whir, the light returns to its original bright blue.

“What was that?”

 _“Just a warning for overhe—anyways,”_ suddenly he releases her hand and stands up. _“My break is almost over, I have to get back to the Crocker residence.”_

His voice is back to that forced, servant-smooth monotone she’s grown to dislike. Rose frowns as he makes his way out the workshop’s backdoor. “Well,” she calls to his retreating back, “if you ever want more practice, you know where to find me.”

He halts. _“Alright.”_ And then, after a moment: _“thanks Rose.”_

She watches as he makes his way out the door, and just as it’s almost shut: “it’s cold outside, be sure not to freeze.”

It’s by far one of the lamest lines she’s ever come up with, but it’s enough to make him catch the door, open it enough to s l o w l y stick his head in, and give her the narrowest glare two flat blue lights can give.

_“Racist.”_

Rose laughs. She will spend most of the remainder of her shift looking at her hand, and thinking.

**Author's Note:**

> yet another little snippet of the "I, Egbot" AU 
> 
> for more info, go here http://saccharinescorpion.tumblr.com/tagged/i-egbot


End file.
